It’s Bret Michaels’ birthday today. He’s 53.
I’ve riffed a little on this before, but one day I’ll sit down here and explain the vast and complex relationship I’ve had with Bret Michaels over the past 27 years (well, at least with a picture of Bret Michaels). It will sound insane, but it’s a fundamental part of what makes me me. Through him, I’ve learned about grace under pressure, persevering in spite of critics, and the benefits of laughing at myself. I wish I had his charm. And the greatest part is that he didn’t actually have to participate in our relationship in order for me to learn those things.
Tragically unhip. Sex obsessed and badly dressed. That is, and always has been, Poison. That is us.
Ultimately I believe that people take away whatever they want from viewing celebrities, so I totally understand that other people don’t see Bret the way that I do (and that makes me look insane), but it doesn’t change the fact that his existence has brought me peace, mindfulness, and much joy. He makes me want to be a better person.
… Oh, and I’m not a stalker. I realised a long time ago that he doesn’t belong to me and he never should… Trust me on that.
He always did look nice half-naked though…
At the end of the day, he’s a guy who has always been able to charge forward through a lot of hard work and adversity, and smile like a kid at Disneyland the whole time. He can joke about the struggles of making it in the music biz, or having a near-fatal stroke. And despite all of the shitty things people have said about him across his career (and let’s face it, he’s a magnet for hatred) I have never once heard him say anything nasty about ANYONE! That’s an impressive skill.
And he can write songs about it too. That’s not bad either.
Luv ya work, baby.